


roses are thorny

by charmolypi



Series: mavinweek [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, M/M, No Explicit Violence, and implied Raywood kinda, but not FAHC, gta verse, mentions of Ryan and Meg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 04:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9802649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmolypi/pseuds/charmolypi
Summary: Michael and Ray run a flowershop. Michael’s also pretty sure it's just a front for Ray to get away with selling weed.There’s also the guy who starts visiting every week, who might be a criminal. It can’t be legal to own that much gold...right?(written for mavinweek)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Feb 16th - AUs (anything and everything)
> 
> Late bc I’m not super satisfied with this but w/e. It’s a spinoff of one of my Raywood wips bc I had no ideas at all.

### (and prickly just like me)

Michael kind of hates the idea of this job. He kind of needs the money though, and he can’t say no to Ray, so he ends up agreeing to come work with him (it’s probably better than Gamestop and doing small odd jobs, after all). He moves to Los Santos all the way from Jersey, just for a tiny little flower shop.

Which, knowing Ray, also probably doubles as a front to sell weed. Michael doesn’t really mind, even if he questions how on earth he’s managed to buy the place, or how long he’s been planning this; since he’s got quite the array of flowers already.

All in all, Michael supposes it’s not as bad of a deal as it could be— they get rooming with the shop, so despite the fact the wall is cracked and one of the first things he has to do is fix some of the plumbing, he at least doesn’t have to worry about finding a place to live immediately.

He quickly learns that admittedly, it’s actually not as bad as he thought; he’s fairly good at arranging flowers and he can handle talking to the little old ladies who visit weekly and ask him about his life. Things are pretty relaxed and between the shop and other factors they make enough to keep going, and after work, on some nights they play games together; so it’s a win win for Michael overall.

It’s a weird job, but he makes do. It pays the bills, so he can’t really complain.

* * *

Michael likes the delivers the most, though usually Ray does those— he gets the feeling it doubles as his weed delivery runs.

It’s one of those days, he’s managing the shop on his own; he’d had rushed out, saying he had to run a sudden order (Michael calls bullshit on that, but lets him go anyways). The sound of the door opening catches his attention and he can’t help but think this person looks awfully out of place; adorned head to toe in various gold-schemed accessories.

He’s pretty sure either a) all that gold is fake, b) he’s fucking rich, or c) he’s a criminal because it’s literally unfathomable to have that much (authentic) gold— okay also because Michael thinks he’s so attractive in gold that it should be illegal but that’s really irrelevant.

He internally smacks himself, watching the stranger as he focuses on the fact that he’s a salesperson right now, that there was no need to think about anything else at the moment. He lets out a shaky breath, muttering curses to himself and tries to ignore the extremely attractive stranger currently in the shop.

Said attractive stranger seemed to be oblivious to him (thankfully), currently just wandering the shop and observing each flower carefully. He’s thankful that Ray isn’t here because god, he can only imagine how this would go over

Michael works up the courage to approach him, because there isn’t anyone else in the shop he can distract himself by helping, and eventually he’ll have to do so. He does just that, quietly clearing his throat to get the other’s attention. “Can I help you with anything?”

The stranger looks up at him, seeming almost a bit startled before grinning at him as he gestures to some lilies that were. “Could I get a dozen of those, lad?”

He stares at him blankly for a few moments— he sounded like he could pass for some damn rich kid with that accent— before nodding and walking past him to carefully select a dozen from them. “Just these?” Michael gets a noise of confirmation, and doesn’t say much as he takes the blooms to the counter and rings him up.

Michael manages to make some small talk while he wraps them up nicely— he gets a name out of him, but not much else. It’s fine really, because he doubts he’ll ever see Gavin Free again, right?

Ray returns moments after he leaves, and Michael makes a grimace at the faint scent of weed— because god dammit Ray they talked about not getting high while on the job—

* * *

Contrary to what his expectations are, Gavin returns the next week, and the following, and the one after that, and then it starts being almost every other day. Each time he gets a different set of flowers; he notes that he always gets yellow flowers, occasionally purple and orange, but usually yellow. He’ll always talk with Michael for a few minutes (or more, during his later visits) before leaving again. He never can get a straight answer out of him regarding how he has so much gold, so he gives up on figuring out that mystery. They grow closer though, small chit chat extends to Gavin occasionally joining Ray and Michael’s game nights— he’s no good at games, but it’s fun to have someone else join them.

Ray jokes that he might take the spot of their most frequent customer, but Michael just snorts and shakes his head at him. They both know that spot will forever belong to the tall brunet that might be a borderline serial killer. The tall brunet— Ray’s favorite customer— who usually stops in daily, except for Sundays. That’s about the extent of what he knows about the man, because Ray refuses to let them talk, so Michael doesn’t even have any clue what his name is .

(There’s one thing Michael is sure of, and that’s the fact that Ray’s got a raging boner for the dude, so he swears if he doesn’t make a move, he’ll make sure something happens. One of these days).

Speaking of which, the creepy guy stops in one day, while Michael’s alone in the shop because Ray’s running errands _again_. “If you’re looking for Ray, he’s not here.” He informs the other, sorting through some new potted plants that they’d wanted to start selling.

The man clears his throat, a southern drawl to his voice— an accent that sounds very out of place in Los Santos. “I know.” He shrugs, and says it with such an amount of certainty that Michael doesn’t doubt it. He doesn’t question it and goes over to see what he wants.

It’s not the usual dozen or so red and black roses amongst other things, but again, he’s really not in the place to question it. Neither of them bother trying to make conversation, and he hands over the flowers without much thought before heading back to sort through plants.

“Michael.” Michael jumps a bit; he assumes he knows his name from Ray, because any other reason would make him 10 times creepier than he already is. “You should really ask Gavin about his job. It might be important for you to know one day.” And then the fucker leaves, as if he didn’t say a thing at all.

How goddamn ominous.

(Of course, Michael gets some satisfaction in seeing the disappointed look on Ray’s face when he informs him that his customer stopped by while he was gone).

* * *

This is a normal trend for a few weeks, doesn’t even think about the warning he gets from Ray’s creepy murder crush (Michael has to just keep coming up with titles because he’s never getting this guy’s name, he swears).

Speaking of creepy mcfuckface, he happens to be having a chat with Ray during the next time Gavin stops by, and Michael immediately gets the feeling this won't be as normal as the past weeks have gone.

Gavin comes in with a pretty chick hanging off his arm— Michael doesn't recall having seen her before, but she seems right at home in the shop as she lets go of his arm and makes her way over to join Ray and borderline serial killer guy. He eyes them suspiciously, the three huddled around the counter, hushed whispering amongst themselves.

_You should really ask Gavin about his job._

Michael can hear the words in the back of his mind as he watches Gavin offer the group a wave, watches the shared exchange of glances between them;before the Brit is heading over to where he is, currently in the midst of counting their stock.

He notices the large bruise that accounts for a large portion of the left side of his face almost immediately.

“You look like you lost a fistfight with yourself.” Michael decides to point this out rather bluntly, writing down something on their stock list without even batting an eye; snorting softly at the indignant squawking noise he gets in response and ignores the worry that has settled uneasily in his gut.

“Turney, I told you that the cover up was no good!” Gavin shouts to the woman on the other side of the shop— who in turn, responds by flipping him off. Michael decides he likes her 10 times more now.

“Seriously, asshole, what happened to your face?” He grumbles, a bit of insistence in his voice.

“Turney and I got back from a job that didn't go so well.” Gavin says as a way of explanation as he turns back to him.

_It might be important for you to know one day._

Michael’s mouth sets in a small frown, because he hates the fact that asshole deathfucker might be right, and doesn't say anything as he finishes up with their notes. He attempts to distract himself from his thoughts by going over his list. It looked like they needed more roses, unsurprisingly, and probably some orchids, which was kind rare in their shop, but—

“Michael? Boi?” Gavin’s tapping at his shoulder as he peers at him over the rims of his favorite golden sunglasses (he has to be imagining the worried tone of his voice), and he smiles reassuringly as he turns towards him.

“Sorry, got distracted by work for a moment.” Well, it's not a complete lie. “Did you need something?”

“You seemed upset...did I do something to upset you?” He upsets him by existing, if he’s being honest. But Michael doesn't say that.

“Gav...can we talk?” He gets a small gesture to continue speaking, so he does. “What exact kind of job do you have to get hurt like this?”

He glances around for a brief moment, then leans in slightly. “We can talk. How about over dinner on Thursday?” Michael barely has time to give an okay before Gavin’s gone— he’s gone so fast that it takes a few moments for the whispering peanut gallery to notice and another second before the shop is empty— save for himself and Ray— once again.

He knew he shouldn’t have said anything about it. But Gavin was gone now, so he really can’t take back his words.

It also totally doesn’t count as a date…right?

* * *

As it turns out, Michael isn't wrong in thinking that murderface was a creepy killer in disguise, according to Gavin. Apparently, Ray was also aware of this fact— the fucker. And that made him the only one out of the loop.

Besides that, it turns out that most of the gold Gavin wore was, in fact, stolen. Which is really rather impressive, for the most part. Also kind of worrying, but a little less so.

Gavin is quick to reassure him that he had no intentions of stealing from him or Ray (as if he'd ever worried about that).

Michael finds out about this over dinner, which is spent in Gavin’s flat, which is unsurprisingly much nicer than the small living area he shares with Ray. He also finds out that he is a decent enough cook, and they chat casual over a round of drinks, followed up by a bit of gaming.

Michael isn't really sure what to label it, but it's a nice night.

They start doing it on a more regular basis, and after a while they call it dating. Michael can’t help but worry every time he comes by with some injury or another, in a city like Los Santos.

One day all good things will come to an end, Michael knows that. Gavin knows it too.

Until then, however, they’re more than happy to spend it together, just the two of them.


End file.
